


stunning.

by Icanwritesee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Fluff, John's smooth and Sherly's not, M/M, it's not a Holmescest I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:57:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icanwritesee/pseuds/Icanwritesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock preferred tea. that is, of course, until he met the new barista in the cafe across from his studio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stunning.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one as a 100th follower gift for a lovely blogger and thought, why wouldn't I post it here? so I did.

_you could dry a river_  
_with your heart of stone_

Sherlock normally preferred tea. he found Earl Grey with a touch of milk just perfect for any time of day or night. he didn't drink coffee that often; maybe because he didn't need to get anymore stimulation. maybe because he found coffee or tea too weak to stimulate him enough. that was before he started to dance, and even longer before he met the blond barista in the new cafe just across his studio.  
*  
soft pats of raindrops on his head brought him back to reality. he really should've put on coat.

sighing heavily, Sherlock texted Mycroft just because he could. and because it was around the time he usually send his driver home, and the fat bastard would have to get up and drive himself. he couldn't help the vicious smile curling his lips.

_I will be there in 10 minutes. do. not. move. MH_

"10 minutes my arse", Sherlock muttered quietly to himself, knowing he'd have more than 20 minutes to kill before fatty arrives; plenty of time to get tea.  
Sherlock crossed the road to a nearby cafe Mrs. Hudson told him about few days ago. it was horrible - brightly-lit chic student spot full of people that served beverages with preposterous names and played some modern atrocity in the background. he shook himself off to dispose some of the rain that inevitably caught him while he was running. quick scan of the room proved that there was exactly _nothing_ interesting happening there. still, nothing interesting was more appealing than cold evening outside.  
it took him ridiculously small amount of steps to get to the counter. only to be smacked with perfection. because what greeted him at the counter was absolutely _perfect_.  
*  
\- hello! how can I help you in this cloudbursty evening? - asked warm voice that belonged to boy with golden hair and made all his thoughts slow down to a stride. Sherlock blinked at him in surprise. John, if one believed name tags.  
\- um... - he cleared his throat to find his _own_ voice. - I'll... I'll have the... um...  
_well done, Holmes. you haven't even uttered a single sentence and you've already made a fool of yourself. bravo.  
_ John smiled friendly at him.  
how dare he smile like that, how is he even _real_?  
\- may I suggest you a beverage? - he asked at some point.  
Sherlock only nodded to save himself from further humilitation in front of the barista.  
\- I would take macchiato if I were you. it's made from our special blend with a touch of cinnamon and brown sugar, not to mention it's my personal favourite.  
\- oh, we've a winner, then - Sherlock swore that his own smile looked too strained to be natural, but John simply beamed and went to work on his coffee while Sherlock sat on one of the high stools by the counter.  
*  
next few weeks confirmed his suspicions about the blond barista. that he was stunning. all about him was absolutely perfect, like he was made out of stars and magic. like his place wasn't among the mere mortals.  
and Sherlock couldn't determine which one of his features was his absolute favourite because when he started to think about sun-kissed skin, he couldn't overlook navy-blue eyes. but without his navy eyes, John would just be regular blonde bloke. then, there was his easy smile that lit up his whole face and made him look boyish.  
it took Sherlock total of four days to realize he was too far gone.  
*  
\- the noise... the people...! - Sherlock muttered darkly, full of disgust because of the crowd in bus. sometimes he hated Mycroft because of his very important government duties that held him outside London from time to time.  
next rapid stop threw him like a ragdoll at first. then, he realized just _who_ he knocked down in the process.  
\- oi, watch out - Sherlock would recognize that warmth everywhere. - oh, hi there, Sherlock!  
\- hello, John.  
_very intelligent, Holmes.  
_ \- you okay?  
\- it would take much more to hurt me - he answered semi-normally. sometimes he even forgot about bloody butterflies in his stomach that seemed to be permanently there.  
\- yeah, I kinda noticed - John chuckled.  
\- sorry?  
\- oh, it's nothing. it's just... one day I complained about something, I think I dropped box of coffee on my foot and it hurt me pretty badly, yeah? but then, Molly mentioned that from staff's room at the cafe one can see studio and if one's lucky, one can see people dancing for every hours of day, blahblahblah... anyway, to make long story short, one day I saw you twist your ankle very badly. you continued dancing like it was nothing.  
\- oh...  
\- hey, when are you free?  
\- s-sorry?  
John nervously scratched his neck with a bit of a blush colouring his cheeks.  
\- I was thinking... you're more impressive than you let on. and I'm impressed by your intelligence and everything else, and I was thinking... would you like to spend some time with me?  
five minutes later, Sherlock still kept blinking at him. but another minute later, he finally snapped out of his reverie, only to find John's spot empty and bus just leaving.  
\- of course I would, John... where is he?  
little old lady sitting nearby disapprovingly rolled her eyes at him.  
\- oi, why you're standing there, boy? your young man went his way when you didn't have the guts to say no!  
Sherlock swallowed.  
\- stop the bus! - he yelled, seeing John's bright head at the bus stop. bus driver grumbled audibly, but stopped, and he jumped on the pavement. - John! wait!  
John kept walking. his arms were sagged, and body spoke of failure. Sherlock ran to catch him up, but before he slowed, John suddenly turned around. it would be even fine if they only collided instead of actually falling. even that would be okay, even if slightly awkward. instead, they _kissed_. or, rather, Sherlock saw his opportunity and took it, throwing away all his fears.  
\- well... - John whispered happily when they finally separated. - I guess that settles it, don't you think?


End file.
